


Nowhere Else But Here

by Kuukkeli



Series: Pets & Playtimes [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, M/M, MTMTE, Master/Pet, Pet Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 16:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6384736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuukkeli/pseuds/Kuukkeli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was supposed to be smutty but I left that part out. I guess I'll use the smut part in another fic, then.</p><p>And I have no idea what that title is. . _.;</p>
    </blockquote>





	Nowhere Else But Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vienn_peridot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vienn_peridot/gifts).



> This was supposed to be smutty but I left that part out. I guess I'll use the smut part in another fic, then.
> 
> And I have no idea what that title is. . _.;

It was Drift’s idea to go to the kink night that was being held in Swerve’s tonight. Not that Ratchet had anything against it. It was just that usually their playtimes were private and kept behind the closed door of their hab suite. So it was a small mystery how the speedster had managed to convince the older mech into this.

They were heading to the bar, Ratchet holding the leash that was attached to Drifter’s collar, keeping a slow pace so his pet would keep up with him. Drift had his white, fluffy tail, mitten-paws, knee pads and this time he wore the white muzzle he had purchased during their last shore leave. Every now and then Drifter would nudge his head against his master’s leg to gain his attention and purr when a hand rubbed behind his finial.

“Good boy”, the medic murmured and continued walking.

They arrived at the bar and stepped in. The lights were dimmed and the music was playing in the background, though not drowning the sounds of conversation. Ratchet saw full body harnesses, collars, leashes, gags, lingerie, skirts and other clothes and some mechs with no accessories. He even caught a glimpse of a toy or two in the corner of his optic.

Then, he noticed Rodimus and Ultra Magnus. Or rather, _Ginger_ and Ultra Magnus as the orange mech had his pony gear on; his forearms were bound to his upper arms, he had a tail that had been combed smooth and shiny, hoof gloves, bridle with blinkers to reduce his field of vision and a snuffle bit in his mouth to steer him around. He also had a very nice looking cincher around his waist and he balanced on his hoof boots.

The medic headed to the two mechs, bidding good evening to the blue mech but Drifter wasn’t fond of the idea of getting to know the scary looking pony. He rounded his master’s legs and hid behind him, peeking between them.

_You can’t make me go and greet that thing. Nope!_

“Oh, come on, Drifter. Ginger isn’t that scary”, Ratchet chuckled.

The white mech squeezed through his master’s legs to glare up at him, huffing through his vents.

_You don’t know that!_

“You silly”, the older mech chuckled and rubbed under Drifter’s chin. He stepped forward to let Ginger sniff his hand before patting the pony’s flank.

“He’s such a good looking pony”, he praised and ran his hand down the orange mech’s golden chest.

Drifter whimpered, fidgeting between his master’s legs. _Master! You’re supposed to pet me, not him!_ Jealousy flared in his field, licking the edges of Ratchet’s.

Ultra Magnus hummed in agreement. “He indeed is”, he replied, securing the halters in his grip. “Drifter is also looking well.”

At the mention of his name, the white mech turned his gaze to the now crouching mech, one large hand held out. Drifter looked up at his master and when he received a nod, he leaned forward to sniff the hand.

His posture was comical; he was leaning forward but he kept his ‘hind legs’ firmly in place between Ratchet’s. When meeting with new people, Drifter was cautious.

The red and white mech couldn’t stifle down his laugh and chuckled warm-sparkedly at his silly pet.

The white hand was sniffed thoroughly before the speedster nudged his nose against the palm and accepted the gentle pettings. He even broke into purring as the fingers found a sweet spot behind his finial, planting his aft down in front of the larger mech.

“He likes you”, Ratchet said, a fond smile on his lips.

“That he does”, Ultra Magnus agreed, now concentrating on the finial.

Drifter shivered, uttering a breathy moan, though the sound was muffled by the muzzle he was wearing. He shifted closer to get more of that delicious touch. _Please, give me more~_

Ratchet tugged at the leash. “Down, boy.”

His pet settled down but refused to move away from Ultra Magnus. His fingers were so perfect against his finial!

“Would it be too much trouble to introduce Drifter with Ginger?” the medic asked, pulling his slightly reluctant pet back to him.

“Not at all”, the blue mech said, standing up, and steered his pony closer by the reins attached to Ginger’s bridle.

Ginger jerked his head but Ultra Magnus got him under control by pulling the reins downwards. “Easy, boy. Easy”, the large mech murmured softly.

Drifter cowered back behind his master’s legs, taking the leash with him and glancing at the orange mech suspiciously. He wasn’t going near him. No way! Master wouldn’t force him. Would he?

“Oh, Drifter. There’s nothing to be afraid of”, Ratchet crooned and stepped over the leash and knelt down to his sooth his pet. He cupped the white mech’s chin in his left hand and rubbed behind a finial with his other hand. He got up when Drifter’s field calmed down and encouraged him towards Ginger.

Around them, mechs were having great time drinking and indulging in their kinks. Exhibitionism, voyeurism, bondage... You name the kink; it probably was present. Though, various toys and forms of bondage seemed to be the most popular.

Drifter inched closer to the pony and kept a sharp optic on any indication he might get kicked. He didn’t want to get kicked! Whimpering, he backed up but his escape route was blocked by Ratchet’s shins as his aft bumped against them.

Gathering his courage, the white mech tried again and this time he got within the sniffing distance. Ginger stomped his left feet against the floor once. The movement was enough for Drifter to retreat to the safety of his master’s legs.

“I think it’d be better to introduce them somewhere safer and calmer environment”, Ultra Magnus stated, stroking his pony’s back to sooth him.

“I agree”, the red and white mech nodded and embraced his startled pet.

With that, Ultra Magnus bid them good night and led Ginger away. Ratchet waited until the SIC was gone before rising back to his feet. Drifter had calmed down and was now nuzzling his master’s leg happily.

Ratchet picked his favored table and sat down, Drifter parking in front of him under the table. Soon Swerve came to him and took his order. It didn’t take long for the minibot to return with the drink and a small plate of sweets to nibble on. At the sight of the sweets the white mech uttered a whimper, hopeful his master would share them with him, his finials flattening and perking up again.

“These are mine”, Ratchet said, cupping Drifter’s face under his chin in one hand.

A quiet growl escaped Drifter as he was denied the delicious looking sweets. He lifted his left hand to the red and white mech’s knee as if to swat it to show his upset mood. But his paw was pushed away gently by Ratchet who eyed at him with an admonished look in his optics. Drifter flattened his finials and nuzzled his master’s inner thigh, apologizing for his bad behavior.

Before Ratchet managed to take a taste of the sweets, Rung made his way to the table. “Good evening, doctor”, the smaller mech said, his voice gentle and soft.

“Good evening, Rung. Please, call me Ratchet. I’m off duty”, the medic smiled and gestured the other mech to have a seat.

Rung smiled and sat down, though a startled ‘Oh!’ escaped his vocalizer when he accidentally kicked something solid under the table, a yelp sounding beneath the piece of furniture. He bent down and peeked under the edge of the table to see an upset Drifter staring back at him, hunched close to Ratchet’s legs.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Drifter. I didn’t see you there”, the psychiatrist apologized, holding out his hand.

Drifter merely huffed and turned his head away, resting his chin on his master’s knee. That kind of apology wasn’t enough.

“Oh, dear”, Rung chuckled as he straightened himself, “Seems like I’m on the ‘hated’ list.”

The larger mech waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and gave a raspy laugh of his own, “Don’t mind him. He can sometimes be a real drama queen.”

Ignoring his pet, Ratchet ordered a drink for Rung. The drink came quickly and the two mechs immersed themselves in a relaxed conversation. Drifter grew unhappy for the lack of attention so he nudged his master’s knee and whimpered. When he got the older mech’s attention, he looked up at him with the _look_.

 _Ratchet can’t resist me now and he_ has _to give me attention._

And sure enough, a hand landed on one of his finials and started rubbing. Oh, this is pure bliss! He couldn’t help the purr erupting from his engine and he certainly couldn’t fight the urge to lean into the touch.

After some time, Ratchet whistled to gain his pet’s attention and once their gazes met, he scratched under Drifter’s chin and removed the muzzle to give him treats. Just when the speedster was about to take the offered treat into his mouth, the medic had other thoughts. He glanced at Rung and smiled.

“Would like you to feed Drifter?”

Drifter came from under the table and followed keenly as the treat switched hands. He even rose to his knees to get a whiff of the treat as it was passed from Ratchet to Rung.

“I’d love to”, Rung replied, taking the treat. “What Drifter must do to earn the treat?”

“He must sit still”, Ratchet said, settling comfortably on the couch and added, “You can make him do a trick if you want.”

Nodding, the orange mech held the treat between his thumb and index finger but kept it well away from Drifter. “Sit.”

The white mech sat down, paws between knees, his gaze nailed on the treat. But he didn’t get the treat yet.

“Up”, Rung commanded and lifted his hand up, gesturing Drifter to rise on his knees. And Drifter rose to his knees, paws kneading at the thin air as he snatched the treat with his teeth, licking the orange fingertips clean.

“Remember to praise him”, Ratchet whispered.

“Good boy, Drifter. Good boy”, the smaller mech praised and petted the speedster.

Drifter got back down to his hands and knees and ate the treat. Once the tasty treat was gone, he nuzzled Rung’s knee, purring. Apparently the kick from earlier had been forgiven as the white mech pushed his face more firmly against the psychiatrist’s knee.

“He seems quite affectionate right now”, the smaller mech chuckled as he rubbed behind Drifter’s finials.

“He can be, sometimes, yeah”, Ratchet replied, taking the muzzle from the couch, and commanded, “Muzzle.”

Drifter lifted his head from between Rung’s knees and crawled to his master to have his muzzle put back on. He loved the smell of the muzzle and he purred when Ratchet rubbed under his chin after finishing with the straps.

Then, the white mech settled down near the medic’s legs, resting his head on Ratchet’s feet, enjoying himself. He listened to the calm, soothing conversation the other two mechs were having, the background noises lulling him into a light slumber. With the way his master’s field brushed against his every once in a while, Drifter felt comfortable and safe.

After some time, Ratchet made a move to stand up and Drifter stirred from his relaxed state, uttering a displeased whimper.

The medic rubbed behind his finial as an apology and then off they were, Rung with them. Apparently master had invited the orange mech to join them in their hab suite. As they walked towards the door, Drifter glanced back and saw Ginger surrounded by admires, hands stroking up and down him flanks and back and chest, the pony clearly enjoying the attention.

A gentle tug to his leash gestured him to come along and not fall behind too much.

“Come on, boy. Good boy”, Ratchet praised as the white mech crawled to him.

Even though an overload or two later in the evening would’ve sounded nice, right now Drifter really preferred to just be and enjoy a quiet evening with his master. And Rung. He nudged his head against the smaller mech’s calves and, chirping deep in his vocalizer.

The psychiatrist smiled down at him and chuckled, though didn’t crouch down to pet him as they were in the middle of the corridor. He continued to Ratchet and Drift’s shared hab suite with Ratchet on his left side. Though, Drifter wedged himself between them. Not that he didn’t trust Rung but... just in case, you know.

The orange mech chuckled again at Drifter. “He should be a watch dog or a guard dog to you, Ratchet.”

“Huh?” Ratchet looked down as the other mech pointed at the white mech between them. “Oh.”

“He seems quite protective over you. Even when you’re with me.”

_He’s always been like this. Always being close to me as if making a shield out of himself._

Shaking the thought out of his head, Ratchet huffed in amusement. He saw a familiar door and fed the access code and let Rung in first. When the smaller mech had entered, the medic and his pet followed and Ratchet knelt to remove the muzzle from Drifter.

“Okay.”

A simple command which meant that Drifter was okay to go and relax. Ratchet watched his pet go to the couch and hop on the soft paddings and curl up. Getting up, the red and white mech went to the small kitchen to fetch drinks for him and Rung.

“Please, sit”, he called from the kitchen and appeared to the living room with a cube in both hands.

Rung had made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch; he was aware that Drifter wouldn’t appreciate if someone else other than his master sat next to him. And so, Ratchet gave Rung his cube and sat in the middle. The very instant the older mech sat down, he found his lap full of Drifter. Or rather, his head resting on his lap.

Drifter glanced up his master and broke into purring, very much content to stay where he currently was. Then there was a hand on the top of his head but it wasn’t his master’s rough but gentle one but Rung’s lithe palm that pressed lightly against his head, fingers drawing small circles towards his right finial. When the fingers reached his finial, Drifter’s optics had slipped closed and his purring had gotten louder.

_This feels nice..._

Ratchet sighed and chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he looked at the blissed out expression on the white mech’s face. “Seems like you’ve been accepted to his pack.”

Rung couldn’t help the light giggle from bubbling from his vocalizer. Drifter’s pack? How cute. It wasn’t long until Drifter’s vents calmed down to a slow idle and his posture relaxed, his head tipping to rest against his master’s stomach.

It was so warm to sit between the speedster and the psychiatrist that Ratchet’s head started nodding off and eventually he allowed recharge claim him. Rung smiled fondly at his Amica and snuggled closer to the larger mech, his hand still on Drifter’s finial as he as well fell into recharge.


End file.
